


Balancing Act

by dawnmarionette



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationships, Familial Abuse, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Nohr | Conquest Route, Prisoner of War, i didnt make this to be a tragic fic but if ur sensitive to the topic please be aware going into it, i love and would die for the nohr siblings, sibling relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 15:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18096629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnmarionette/pseuds/dawnmarionette
Summary: “Even though we all live here, it’s not very much like a home, is it?” Corrin says then, unprompted. “Maybe I don’t understand because I grew up in the fortress apart from you all. It’s just strange, I suppose. I didn’t expect how much lying and hiding away I would have to do when I first came here.”





	Balancing Act

It isn’t until the Hoshidan prince is thrown at their feet that Leo is reminded how very much Corrin still cares for her birth family.

“Traitor!” Takumi hisses viciously up at her, a snarl twisting his features. “Nohrian scum! I was right from the start, you _never-”_ He cuts off with a cry of pain and a coughing fit when Hans slams a boot into his stomach.

Leo’s jaw tightens and his fingers twitch where they’re wrapped around Brynhildr but he otherwise remains impassive. He’s long since learned better than to react to cruelty in sight of their father. Besides, the young prince (though it’s difficult to keep thinking of him as such, when he’s right there in front of Leo, and is most likely around his same age) had been stupid enough to allow himself to be caught upon defeat, rather than choosing death over shame or whatever it is they preach over there. Perhaps had been too young and undisciplined to force himself to make that choice. Now isn’t the time for Leo to allow pity to seep into his heart.

But Corrin. Corrin is making that face Leo has seen so many times before, the expression with furrowed brows and a terribly pinched frown that means she’s trying very hard not to cry. She’s always been bad at hiding her stronger emotions, and even when she tried Leo was always able to get her to crack within seconds, whether with humor or confessions in confidence, with a well-aimed jab or concerned query.

Leo almost stops her when she runs to Takumi’s side in distress, but it’s rendered unnecessary when Takumi lashes out at her with his legs the best he can from his position on the floor.

“Don’t touch me, scum!”

“Takumi-” She sounds pained, turning to Garon. Leo is already dreading what she’s going to follow that up with, and his premonition is proven unfortunately accurate when she says, “Father, can we not treat his wounds? He’s in bad shape from the battle, and it isn’t as if he could escape now even if-”

“Treat him?” Garon scoffs. His voice has a double timbre, like his voice is really two speaking in slightly different pitches, but it must be the echo of the throne room, because such a thing is impossible. Garon is only one person - their father, no less - and he is there in front of them. Leo inwardly scolds himself for letting his imagination get away from him at such a time. “No, stupid girl, I want to see you kill him.” Leo can hear Takumi suck in a quick breath but he doesn’t look down at him, keeps his eyes trained straight ahead like an obedient son should. Xander and the others are standing beside him in a neat line, not moving.

…Takumi probably looks afraid.

“Doubtless this will destroy the morale of the Hoshidans, especially their foolish little crown prince. I am mere weeks from winning the war with this victory, and then Hoshido will be mine.”

“What?!” Corrin turns to Leo, then when he shows no obvious reaction, Camilla, Elise, Xander, desperation written all over her face. She’d never been able to hide her tenderness of heart at times like this. “But…”

Xander is a marble statue, still and pale and unfeeling, and even Leo, for all his experience in trying, cannot spot a crack in his exterior. He knows that Xander must feel it, too, nonetheless; he loves Corrin as much as any of them, he’s simply had the greatest role to fill as the eldest son, and has had the most time to master wiping his emotions away when necessary. A shining example of a Nohrian prince.

Camilla stands beside Xander, and she’s just as good as him when she tries but oftentimes she doesn’t care to try. Never has she displayed any kind of loyalty to Nohr outside of her siblings. Even now, she looks openly worried over Corrin’s distress, even if she’s intelligent enough to know better than to try to take action here. If Leo didn’t know better he may even say that Camilla would feel no guilt in betraying the kingdom for Corrin, regardless of her other family. Regardless of them - of him.

Elise is the most concerning factor after Corrin in a precarious situation like this one. Her lower lip is trembling and she looks like she’s on the verge of tears. Or, perhaps, the opposite: on the verge of puffing her chest and telling them all to stop fighting. It isn’t often, but she gets that way sometimes. Leo’s seen it; he knows she has the strength in her, but is still too young to know how to balance that and her softness more gracefully under pressure.

Leo steps in to do damage control before Corrin or Elise say something none of them can take back. “What Corrin means to say, Father,” he says smoothly, “is that we shall execute the prisoner as you command, but perhaps you would consider delaying the act for a brief period. Corrin and myself have been the lead strategists in the campaign, after all, and we have not yet had the chance to interrogate him for information on the Hoshidan army. Any insight he has would be invaluable to winning the war in as swift a fashion as possible.”

“Interrogation…” Garon glares - though, he always seems to be glaring, even when pleased - and pauses. “I find this acceptable.” And then he grins, unnatural and sinister and it is so much worse than glaring. “Make him scream, my children. Let him die knowing he has betrayed his kingdom no different than Corrin.”

Leo forces himself to smirk back, like he’s smug at the thought of torturing a helpless Hoshidan royal, but inside feels mildly nauseous. “Of course, Father. Consider it done.”

* * *

  
“I’ll kill you!”

Leo sighs. “So you have said.”

“Don’t _sass_ me, Nohrian scum! I’m not going to thank you for _not torturing me,_ since it’s the _human_ thing to do! Only a real sick, twisted piece of shit finds pleasure in hurting people!”

“I’m not asking for gratitude.” Leo turns a page in his book, but truthfully lost track of his place ages ago. This absolute brat of a prince really doesn’t know how to shut his mouth, does he? “I’m asking for you to be quiet. Though I might enjoy hurting you in a few minutes if it will make you finally allow me to read in peace.”

Takumi growls, and it’s so like a dog that Leo has to hold back a snort at the thought. “Of course you’re threatening me because you didn’t get your way. All Nohrians are alike, aren’t they. Well, bad news for you: I don’t care about your threats. Go ahead and kill me. At least then I won’t have to spend another second in this filthy place.”

“The only reason you have any more seconds left in this ‘filthy place’ to begin with is due to Corrin,” Leo informs him dispassionately. “You should thank her when she gets here.”

“Ha! I’ll _thank_ her for being a traitor when I’m six feet under, scum.”

Leo merely arches an eyebrow whilst scanning the page for anything that might catch his eye. “Is that the only insult you know?” he asks, instead of pointing out that picking the family she had known her entire life over some far-away relatives couldn’t be called a betrayal by any measure of fairness.

Takumi doesn’t have enough time to wrack his brains for some other uncreative snub about how evil Nohrians are before there’s a knock on the door and Corrin is peeking in.

“Leo?” she says hesitantly.

“Come in,” Leo says, gesturing. “Quickly, close the door. Niles may be nearby to keep out unwanted company but the walls have eyes and ears, here.”

That must sound quite dramatic if one hasn’t spent a significant amount of time in Castle Krakenburg as Corrin and Takumi haven’t, but Leo is only being realistic. Corrin may not know this, but she trusts him, so she nods and ducks inside.

“Tch.” Takumi clicks his tongue, quite rudely if one were to ask Leo. “Come to gloat?”

Corrin looks horrified at the implication that she could be as much of a prick as Takumi, and Leo is somewhat offended by the same. “No, Takumi, I came to see how you’re doing. Are you all right?”

“Like it matters to you,” he spits, contempt practically dripping from his words. “If you cared for me or our family even an ounce, we wouldn’t be here.”

“Quite an attitude you have towards the person who saved your life at the risk of her own,” Leo says. He leans back in his chair with a carefully confident kind of tilt to his chin, consciously adopting a kingly aura that’s more like Garon than Xander, if just for a moment. “ _I’m_ only here for Corrin, and if it weren’t for her, I’d be glad to watch you die.”

“Leo! Cut it out, he’s just upset!” Corrin snaps. She looks frustrated, and that’s the thing- it’s never anger with her. Annoyance, yes. Disappointment, yes. Leo has to conclude it must be her upbringing away from the other royal siblings that allows her to stay firm in her resolve without sinking into true resentment or hatred. It’s certainly _their_ upbringing that stops them from doing the same, Elise aside.

However, Corrin being disappointed in him is one of the things that gets under Leo’s skin the deepest (she looks at him as if she’d expected _better_ , and he’s never been able to stand not being _better_ ), so he sits up straighter and folds his hands more naturally. “I apologize. That was inappropriate.”

“As if you’re ever anything else,” Takumi mutters, clearly meant to be heard. “Nohrians are barbarians, so acting _nice_ while you kill people doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, shut up,” Leo says.

“Takumi, _please_ believe me when I say I just want to help. I didn’t choose Nohr because I don’t care about Hoshido- far from it.” Corrin is plaintive, dropping to her knees to be eye level with him, and Leo watches silently from the desk. “I want to _end_ the war, and the best way to do that is from this side.”

Takumi frowns so hard Leo is surprised he can open his mouth again afterward. “The best way to end the war is to conquer Hoshido, you mean.”

“No, I believe we can found a lasting peace, if we work together,” Corrin says, steady and heartfelt. Courageous. Everything Leo and the others are not. She looks Takumi in the face earnestly and he, appearing somewhat caught off guard, breaks eye contact to stare at a space on the wall somewhere near the door. Leo can see her expression fall at the rejection, if only a little, before she collects herself and presses on. “I know it must be impossible to trust me now, but I have to ask you to try. I’m doing what I believe is best for everyone. I am not your enemy, Takumi. You are my brother now and always, even if you never want to speak to me again when this is all over.”

Flipping to a random page in his book and purporting to skim over the lines helps Leo to hide how he cringes at the silence that follows Corrin’s attempt to reach out to someone uninterested in meeting her halfway.

The moment stretches until Leo’s sympathy for Corrin as his sister wins over his respect for her authority as semiofficial leader. “If you’re unwilling to even acknowledge something as honest as that, Prince Takumi, I suggest you tell us now, that we may hand you back to Father directly before wasting any more time trying to appeal to your good senses.”

He hasn’t even bothered to raise his head from his book but he still sees Takumi’s hackles raise across the room and Corrin’s shoulders slump along with them. “Fine,” Takumi hisses, guard slamming all the way back up. “At least then I’ll be able to die with some _dignity_ instead of groveling to either of you.”

Leo doesn’t like the way this _boy_ continues to callously disregard Corrin, and he is frigid in response. “Dignity? You must be more sheltered than I’d assumed. Father will undoubtedly put your body on the castle wall or something equally visible.” Horrific, that is to say. “Your family will see it. Many soldiers will see it. He may even choose to wait to do it until your brother is watching across the battlefield. It will be painful, and humiliating. It will not be the honorable ending you seem to be imagining.”

The blood had been draining out of Takumi’s face as Leo spoke, and he doesn’t reply.

Corrin gets up all at once with her cloak billowing around her ankles and moves across the room to Leo’s side like a storm. Ah. His eyes slide off to the side ruefully.

“Leo,” she says, quiet. She looks and sounds quite upset and it stirs guilt in Leo’s gut in a way that Takumi’s knee-jerk aggression does not. “Can we talk outside?”

“No,” he says, and makes an effort to sound truly apologetic. “Unfortunately, sister, even with Niles here we can’t afford to throw caution to the wind. Whatever we must discuss must be behind closed doors. I can remove him if needed.”

She runs a hand through her hair, frazzled. “I guess if you think this is necessary. Regardless, we have to try the plan, so- We may as well just talk now.”

“Not to interrupt your sibling bonding,” Takumi interrupts, “But Ryoma is definitely going to come get me at some point, so if you’re planning on killing me you should probably hurry it up.”

It seems rather stupid to bluff like that outright, in Leo’s opinion, and it’s difficult to swallow that this idiot is supposedly one of their most respected tactical minds. When Corrin addresses him, she voices Leo’s criticisms.

“Takumi.” Sharp. “I know you don’t like me, and you have good reason for that. But right now we can’t be fighting over trivial things. You’ll have to give us information so we can make this work without sacrificing too-”

“Never,” Takumi spits. “Damn you, stop playing at being my sister while you’re trying to use me.”

Corrin doesn’t get dejected, this time. Her expression hardens, and so do her words. Not to ice, like Leo’s, but to something strong. Something that burns beneath the surface. “I _am_ your sister, whether you like it or not. And I am not trying to hurt you, so listen to what I’m telling you before you argue like a child.”

Takumi shuts up. Leo is distinctly impressed.

“We need you to think of somewhere Ryoma could potentially go,” she says. “Not where he _is_ , but somewhere he would reasonably go, so we can send soldiers that direction. That should stay your execution until we can confirm the validity of your claims, which- hopefully- will buy us a few weeks to figure something out before the reports make their way back here.”

“It will need to be somewhere reasonably close to Shirasagi so as to provide as much distance as possible between here and there, but not so close that Father will get valuable leverage to take it,” Leo adds. “You’re supposedly good at strategy, are you not? I’ve seen maps, but am personally unfamiliar with Hoshidan territory. Is there anywhere that comes to mind that will suit this purpose?”

Takumi is looking everywhere but at either of them. If Leo had to guess, he would say that he already has an idea in mind but is reluctant to actually divulge it. Understandable, hypothetically; in reality, highly impractical. Being wary of your enemies is one thing, but refusing a helping hand offered when surrounded by hostility on all sides is thoughtless and hot headed.

“Takumi?”

“Prince Takumi, working with us is your best chance at surviving this war, so I suggest you swallow your pride and tell us if you’ve come up with something.”

“On one condition.”

Leo can’t say he’s not interested in what Takumi could possibly be thinking, all things considered. He exchanges a look with Corrin, who looks somewhat wary but gives him a nod of approval to go ahead.

“What might that be?”

Takumi swallows hard before speaking, seeming wary instead of blindly resentful for the first time since Leo’s seen him. “Tell me who else you've taken or killed. If any of you touched my family you may as well kill me now, because I’m _never_ helping you.”

Leo has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “How very noble.”

_“Leo.”_

“All right. No, Prince Takumi, no other Hoshidans were captured or killed at the battle. Your little stunt with the barrels made sure of that.”

The truth is, it had been an ingenious manuever. Nohrian soldiers are accostumed to fighting on flat ground and in the mountains. Takumi’s expertise in navigating complex terrain filled with obstacles had shined through in the battle: causing a veritable wave of barrels to come tumbling down from a ship’s supplies and skillfully ducking through them to take out the soldiers left in disarray during the chaos. Of course, that also meant no Hoshidans were able to reach him by the time it became apparent that another group of mercenaries had circled behind the port to cut off his escape route. Leo had been an unfortunate witness to who he assumed were Takumi’s retainers trying desperately to run into the fray and being held back by the others, including the other Hoshidan royals themselves, because it became obvious almost immediately that without anywhere to run, Takumi had landed himself right in the center of the Nohrian army.

Takumi seems to accept Leo’s answer, and it’s through gritted teeth that he gives in. “Fine. Izumo is the farthest I can think to go from Krakenburg without actually entering Mokushu. Ryoma has traveled there before, and it would make sense for him to go back again if he needed additional support. But Izumo is neutral, so it would be monstrous, not to mention idiotic, to send troops there looking to begin a fight.”

Leo nods slowly, considering it. It makes sense.

“Will Father respect a pact of neutrality if he believes Ryoma is there, Leo?” Corrin says.

“I’m not sure,” Leo says. “I suspect not.”

He’s a bit more sure than he wants to say. He’s seen Garon slaughter innocents for lesser slights than harboring an enemy high prince, so the results of this gamble could be very messy if they don’t play their cards right.

“If we’re supposed to all be friends here, why don’t you untie me? Unless you don’t _really_ trust me.”

Takumi makes a show of struggling against his bonds. It’s only his wrists, so frankly, Leo thinks he’s being rather melodramatic- though in all fairness the rope does look tight from where he’s sitting.

“Oh! Of course. I’m sorry, Takumi, I wasn’t thinking.” Corrin grabs the dagger from her belt and Takumi leans back warily when she pulls it out. She murmurs something that Leo doesn’t catch as she cuts the rope, and Takumi doesn’t quite relax but he does stop looking so suspicious.

“We’ll also have to- Hold on.” There’s no point making conversation about this. Leo goes to the door and opens it only a crack. “Niles?”

Niles slips closer to the door from around the corner nearby, as silent and vigilant as any Hoshidan ninja. “You called, Lord Leo?”

“Yes. Please send Odin to fetch a dead chicken or something- we need blood, and torn clothing.”

Niles, as always, is in tune with Leo’s thought process and catches on to the implication immediately. “Oh? Should I get any other fun toys? We could make a production out of it. I’m quite good at that, you know.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Leo deadpans. Then pauses. “Actually, you’re right. Throw in a lash, too, for good measure.” Then he promptly shuts the door before Niles can follow up the delighted look on his face with a smarmy remark.

Takumi and Corrin are both looking at him strangely when he goes to sit back down. “What?”

“Thought you were above torture and all that,” Takumi says. His voice says he doesn’t care, but his posture is stiff, and that says everything Leo needs to know.

His name coming from Corrin this time sounds like a warning. “Leo-”

Leo rolls his eyes. “Calm down. Haven’t either of you ever lied before? We just need to make it look realistic, I’m not interested in flogging him inside of my bedroom and staining my sheets. It’s just an excuse to let him sit around the castle without the restraints, unless you have a better idea you would like to share, in which case, be my guest.”

Neither of them look particularly pacified, but they don’t argue when Leo prompts them to go over the plan regarding Garon once more. By sundown they’ve worked almost none of the tricky details out, but at the very least they’ve cleared the first hurdle, which is getting Takumi to stop spitting insults at both of them for long enough to speak actual words to one another, so Leo considers that progress. For Corrin, at the very least.

His sheets end up ruined anyways, but it’s worth it for the comically disgusted look on Takumi’s face when Corrin stains his new (half-shredded) clothes and sprinkles chicken blood across his back and cheeks.

* * *

  
When they regroup on the castle grounds the next day after breakfast - that is, after the castle’s typical residents have had breakfast and Corrin has snuck down to the dungeons to slip Takumi some fruit and fresh bread - Leo addresses the question he’s been holding back since Corrin first told him what she wanted to do.

“What will we tell Xander?”

Corrin looks surprised, like she hadn’t given it any thought until now. As far as Leo can guess, she hadn’t. She had not, after all, been witness to nearly as many circumstances as the others within Castle Krakenburg during her life, and so naturally wouldn’t think to try to predict everyone’s actions and reactions three steps ahead as Leo does.

“I’m… not sure. Can’t we just tell him the truth? He’s our older brother. Do you _not_ trust him with the truth?”

The question feels almost barbed, and coming from anyone else Leo might take it as an accusation, but knowing Corrin she is asking quite genuinely how he feels about the likelihood of Xander’s cooperation. She’s expressed her admiration for his perspicacity before, always eager to improve her own abilities as a leader. She and Xander have been close since they were children, but there are limits to every bond of trust, here.

“I trust him… with many things,” Leo hedges. “He may very well be supportive with this particular issue, but… I’m not entirely sure I want to take the risk with something of this scale. Considering the possible consequences if my judgment is incorrect.”

Her brow furrows. “I want to trust him, but… If you think there’s a chance, then it’d be safer not to risk it. I just wish-” She stops, bites her tongue. Starts again, more deliberate. “I want to rely on him. I don’t want to believe… that he’s willing to betray us to Father like that.”

Leo feels the same, but he also knows better by now than to rely on good faith alone when it comes to Garon and loyalty. “I love him too, Corrin, but the truth of the matter is, no matter how slight, that chance- it’s there.”

She nods although it seems to pain her. “I understand. I’ll be careful.”

He’s gentle, because he’s long since learned how that acceptance stings. “I know you will.”

Corrin’s gaze is far away as she considers something for a few long, heavy moments. “We should try to get him out as soon as possible, in any case.”

“Yes, that would be safest.”

“I trust Camilla, but I don’t think she’s very invested in helping Takumi.”

Leo isn’t invested in helping him either, he doesn’t say; it’s only Corrin and Elise that they all agree to look after here. By proportion, a prince from the other side of the continent is negligible. Collateral damage compared to their sisters.

“Even though we all live here, it’s not very much like a home, is it?” Corrin says then, unprompted. “Maybe I don’t understand because I grew up in the fortress apart from you all. It’s just strange, I suppose. I didn’t expect how much lying and hiding away I would have to do when I first came here.”

“I’m sorry,” Leo says, because he is, and if he could bear the weight of Garon’s wrath alone to spare her and Elise the pain, he would.

“Why are you apologizing?” Corrin smiles, soft and gentle as a summer breeze like she would when Leo was a child, eagerly showing off what flowers he had found for her throughout the day for their special visit. The memory is unexpected and strong as it flashes over his vision like a sunbeam, and Leo swears he can feel the warmth and dandelion fuzz on his nose with Corrin’s kind voice reassuring him once again. “You’re very reliable, little brother, but you aren’t responsible for everything. Even if things are difficult, I’m here for you as much as you are here for me, so you don’t have to shoulder it all yourself, though I know you try.”

He isn’t used to such sentiments bared in plain words, exposed to the daylight, and the weight of Corrin’s fondness as well as Leo’s own affection for her almost knock him flat. His heart lodges itself somewhere in his throat and he can’t hold her gaze. “I- Yes. Thank you, Corrin.”

She brushes a thumb against Leo’s cheek and he flushes, about to object, but just as quickly she drops her hand and her expression falls again. “Family shouldn’t be so complicated.”

“Would that it were otherwise.” Corrin knows _some_ things of the darker days of Krakenburg, Leo is aware, but not all of it, and he isn’t about to enlighten her as to how complicated their family truly has been and continues to be.

“It could be. After this is all over- maybe we can change things.” Corrin runs a hand through her hair unconsciously, in stress or some other expression of the sparks he can almost feel as her ideals clash with the reality staring them in the face. Her dreams have always been so… “We can make things better. This isn’t- it’s not right. Father isn’t-” She shakes her head and Leo can’t guess where she’s going from there besides detachment, as that’s the only way he himself has ever been able to finish that sentence. “We can fix it. We can be better. But we have to end the war first. Until then- we’ll just have to deal with the problems at hand.”

And there’s the thought that’s been nagging at the back of Leo’s mind, something that feels dangerously like a warning, something he’s forced out of his head each time it had resurfaced even stronger than the last.

It’s the thought that the greatest threat to his siblings - his family - resides not in a faraway land beneath sunshine and amidst golden crops, but within their very home. Sometimes a voice whispers that he, Camilla and Xander are fighting a war on two fronts. Sometimes it suggests that perhaps it would be safer to risk the persecution of life as a fugitive than it would be to remain in the castle indefinitely.

He’s tried to dismiss such ideas as paranoia, irrational thoughts brought on by his endless ruminations and the worry that arises from them, but suddenly- recently it had become much harder to believe that when the red flags cropped up once again, even more glaring and urgent than ever before. Because Corrin is there now.

Surely, he had always reasoned, he’s being silly, because Xander, Camilla and himself can all take care of themselves and Elise. That isn’t cause for alarm nor enough incentive to do something rash. But with Corrin now back in their immediate lives Leo finds that he can see with perfect clarity the ways in which he and his oldest siblings have carefully positioned themselves between their father and her, much the same way as they always have for Elise. With Elise, it was obviously because she was too young and naive to understand war; it went without saying they needed to shield her from the ugliest parts of it, didn’t it?

Corrin isn’t a child, Leo’s realized by now, and is even older than himself, but he’s still most concerned with protecting her because she could be actively harmed. Not by enemy soldiers - though that’s certainly a possibility, with the way she insists on taking to the front lines herself - but by their- or, rather, Leo’s and his blood siblings’ father. The disdain and anger seething underneath King Garon’s tone when he addresses Corrin makes the hair on the back of Leo’s neck stand up. He’s on alert in the throne room as much as he is on any battlefield.

Before Corrin was allowed into Krakenburg, he and the others had learned a sort of precarious but well-practiced balancing act that played out daily between them. They danced delicately between a show of following orders and doing what needed to be done, learning precisely how to duck into the shady cellars or take their conversations to their retainers’ personal rooms when it was necessary to keep their goings-on well out of sight. Father is in a foul mood, they would remark in the quiet hallways, and know to stay far, far away, to entertain Elise with a trip to the market that day.

Leo isn’t sure how aware they all are of their role in this cycle. _He_ is painfully aware, because he’s had to be; growing up in Xander’s shadow, but without the excuse Camilla has always used so frequently of being a woman and not desiring leadership, he’s had to forge his own path with only tomes and his own cleverness keeping him safe. He’s quite used to home being synonymous with a fight for survival, because he’s had to do it all his life. Xander was the trailblazer, with a shining sword and a set jaw as solid and perfect as a marble statue. Leo was always smaller, always a little more alone without the king’s gaze upon him, following after Xander and picking his way through traps and carnage left behind by the other members of their so-called family.

Xander has adapted beautifully, and Leo admires him for it, but nonetheless acknowledges it’s largely because he had no choice. He was in full view of everyone, all the time, and he had hardly the time or space to be looking over his shoulder for his siblings when the world was determined to sling every feasible hardship at him, as if to test if he was worthy to even live to be king someday. He was the one Garon turned to when he wanted something done - often something public, and even more often something ugly and irreversible.

By nature, Xander is incapable of confessing his weakness to Leo, but Leo’s observed enough that he knows the strain he undergoes each and every time he’s flagged down and informed that the king has summoned him. He acts as though he can do anything, and maybe he can - but Leo fears that as a consequence his brother has fooled himself into believing that he can remain loyal to Garon at every turn and still retain his sanity. Leo isn’t entirely certain how that illusion will be broken in the future, or whether it will shatter every other aspect of their fragile equilibrium in the process.

“I’m not certain of how much we will be able to change, even after the war,” Leo says with a wry smile, “but I hope that you’re right. Maybe with you here, we can.”

* * *

  
“Good morning!”

Takumi jumps more than he’d otherwise like at the chipper voice that appears out of goddamn _nowhere_ when he’s half asleep. He should’ve been doing a better job keeping watch, it’s true - but he’d stayed awake all night doing just that, warily eyeing the stairs that he can see from his position to ensure no sleazy Nohrians were creeping down to slit his throat while he slept, but none had, and by the time Corrin, bearing food, crept over to softly knock on the bars of his cell past sunrise he’d begun to doze off.

“Wh-” Takumi leaps up, though his brain takes a moment longer to catch up than his body, which is already upright and reaching instinctively for- Oh. Right. Cell. No Fujin Yumi. Little girl visiting.

Wait, what?

“Princess… Elise?” he says haltingly. “What are you doing here?” _Probably_ he’s remembering her name right, except he can’t confirm that through his hazy memories of war council meetings at the moment, blinking through the sleep in his eyes at the slight figure standing there. He must look like a mess, because he _feels_ like one, in the ripped and bloody clothes. He’s just glad he doesn’t have actual open wounds left to fester, because the dungeons in Nohr are completely disgusting.

“Yay, you know my name!” she cheers. It seems genuinely happy- though, actually, that shouldn’t be surprising even setting his appearance aside, considering she can’t be much older than _possibly_ thirteen. Takumi wills his mind to wake up faster so he can process.

“Uh, yeah,” he says. “I’m guessing you know mine?”

“Of course, silly! You’re Takumi- oops, I mean Prince Takumi!” She doesn’t seem all that sorry about forgetting his title, but it’s hard to hold it against her. Her giggle is honestly sweet and he finds himself starting to loosen up from the way he’d tensed before. “I wanted to come say hi! You’re Corrin’s brother, right?”

She beams at him and Takumi realizes, not without a painful twinge of homesickness in his gut, that she reminds him of Sakura.

But even with the resemblance it’s difficult not to sound bitter. “I guess, yeah.”

“How come you’re mad about it?” she asks. He almost feels bad- not so much for Corrin, though, she made her choices. Just her little sister. “She loves you a lot! She wants to send you home, except she doesn’t want you to go, either.”

Takumi isn’t sure if this is a twelve-year-old’s intuition or something Corrin herself had confessed. He decides not to take any chances with guessing. “Yeah. I want to go home, too.”

She seems unhappy to hear it, despite only just saying that Corrin thinks the same thing. “Then can we be friends before you leave?”

“Uh-” How is he supposed to turn her down without making a complete ass of himself? “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” She pouts, and Takumi doesn’t want to be responsible for this, not when she’s a _child_ \- a Nohrian royal, but a child nonetheless. He wishes one of the others would come down to take Elise away for her studies or whatever else it is a young princess here does on a daily basis, but until that happens, he supposes he’ll have to make do with entertaining her, at least as long as he’s a captive audience for this.

“In case you haven’t noticed, we’re on opposite sides of the war, Princess Elise.” He sits down on the dirty stone floor and she follows suit, cross-legged. “That’s why I’m in here and you’re out there. I don’t think anyone could be friends like this.”

“I guess that makes sense.” She runs a hand along one of the bars. Grime is rubbing off onto her gloves and dress, but she pays it no mind. “I don’t like war. I don’t think Father should like war as much as he does- it makes my brothers and sisters upset. It makes everyone upset, I think.”

“I don’t like it either,” Takumi confesses. What does he have to lose? It’s not as if this is a shocking admission. Very few people enjoy war, after all. “But you’re attacking my family. What else am I supposed to do but fight?”

“Be nice?” she says, phrased like a question.

He raises his eyebrows, knowing skepticism is written all over his face.

“Okay, we should all be nice,” she corrects.

“Well, I suppose…” The truth is, Takumi has a good number of opinions about the philosophy and morality of war, none of which he can or should discuss with a little girl. He settles for changing the subject. “Anyways, why are you here?”

Elise accepts the new topic and leans towards him like she’s about to share a secret. “I heard Leo and Corrin talking about you,” she says. “So I wanted to be friends! Leo says you might be stuck here awhile, but Corrin thinks maybe not. They’re ‘working on it’.” She adds little air quotes, like their planning had sounded silly to her. “Father is getting in the way and so is Xander, it sounded like. I might have to go distract them or something.”

Takumi keeps his tone blasé to mask his interest in the conversation, because with that context he is unexpectedly in need of more information about Corrin’s substitute family. “Should you be telling me this?”

Elise shrugs. “Probably not, but I think you’re nice. Xander says we have to be enemies no matter what, but I don’t believe him! Plus, you’re Corrin’s brother, so I think that makes you my brother… sort of?” She tilts her head in genuine thought. “Half brother? Step brother?”

“I don’t think it works like that,” Takumi says in the driest tone he can manage. If he let any emotion slip through he’s afraid it would be sympathy rather than anything else he’s supposed to feel towards the family responsible for terrorizing his kingdom and his people. “Why are your brother and father getting in Corrin’s way?”

“You know,” she says, as if she expects him to somehow immediately intuit what she’s talking about. “He’s been weird lately, Xander even says so.”

“What do you mean by weird?”

“Like…” She purses her lips. “He throws tantrums more often recently. Things like that.”

The idea that King Garon throwing fits of rage so uncontrolled that his young daughter would call them “tantrums” is already concerning enough _without_ the implication that they’re getting worse over time.

“And that’s bad for your siblings?”

“That’s bad for everybody,” Elise says. “Father isn’t very nice. You probably know that, though.”

Takumi does, in fact, know that.

“Yeah, it makes it kind of difficult to get along well, when your father wants me dead.”

“I know…” Elise sighs dramatically. “But I still like making friends. And we could be family, maybe. I think that’d be nice. Everyone should get along, and everything would be so much better!”

“Princess Elise,” he says in the kind of tone he usually uses when Sakura has a nightmare. “You’re a member of the royal family of Nohr, our greatest enemy. We’re in the middle of a war. Even if we were related, it wouldn’t change anything. We’d still have to fight.”

Her spirit appears a little dampened, but not actually discouraged quite yet. “You think so too? But even Corrin wants us all to be friends! And so do I!”

“Well, Corrin missed that chance when she abandoned our family for you!” he snaps.

Then Elise’s expression crumples and Takumi becomes fast friends with regret.

“I didn’t- I didn’t mean that.” That is, he did, but he definitely didn’t mean to say it to _Elise_. That’s an unintended consequence for several reasons. One of her older siblings is definitely going to have him killed in his sleep now, if they weren’t planning to do so already.

“It’s okay,” Elise whispers back. She looks down at the floor and traces her finger idly on the stone there in odd shapes. Her gloves are getting absolutely filthy and some part of Takumi wants to chide her for it like he would Sakura if it were her ruining her nice clothes, even though Sakura would never purposely ruin her nice clothes. “It was hard for her to pick. She didn’t want to. But I bet it was hard for you, too, so it's okay you're upset. She’s my sister too, and- and she’s a really good sister. I’d be sad if she went away.”

“Yeah,” Takumi says, quietly. He doesn’t know why he’s still talking to her about this. “I wouldn’t know if she’s a good sister, but. My siblings wanted her back, and she abandoned them too. Not only me. If it was just me, I’d be angry, but it wouldn’t be as bad. But she left all of us.”

Elise looks up at him, and then keeps looking for a long time. At least it feels like a long time, because even though Takumi hasn’t known her for very long, it’s already strange to see her being quiet. She just has the energy of a kid who never stops doing things, he guesses.

“Prince Takumi?” she says.

“What?”

“Father did a lot of bad things. But my siblings are really nice. So don’t be mad at them, okay? Especially Corrin. She cares about you a lot.”

Takumi must be silent for too long as he lets her words sink into his weary mind, one by one, because she gets up after a minute or two, dusts herself off (with not much effect), and waves goodbye with a promise to visit again soon as she leaves. Without thinking, he waves back, and is rewarded with a newly joyful laugh as she disappears back up the stairs.

* * *

  
Leo looks about as displeased with this situation as Takumi, but he’s being infinitely more petty about it. At least, in Takumi’s opinion.

“You could at least try and _act_ like you don’t want me dead,” Takumi says with what could probably pass for a sneer even in the dim lighting of the library.

“That’s almost funny, coming from you.”

Across the table, Leo has a book laid open in front of him but isn’t even bothering to pretend to read this time, he’s just inspecting his nails like he has all the time in the world specifically designated to pissing off Takumi.

“Are you ever going to tell me what the hell we’re doing here? This is a waste of time. If I’m going to be doing nothing, I’d rather do nothing alone than be stuck here with you.” Takumi gestures to the rough-hewn alcove of a room they’ve been sitting in for an hour or maybe three; it’s impossible to tell for sure what with how sunlight struggles to trickle in through the dusty windows, past the heavy (also dusty) curtains and through the cracks around the indubitably handmade door. The candle Leo had brought along isn’t all that helpful, either, and it’s not without a tiny bit of smug satisfaction that Takumi thinks Leo will end up with glasses before long if he tries to read in this kind of lighting terribly often.

“I’d be delighted to take you back to the dungeon myself,” Leo says, flexing his fingers and polishing a nail delicately. The resemblance to Orochi’s flippant demeanor when she’s fixing her own nails is striking. “I won’t, though. Corrin asked me to bring you here and it’ll upset her if I leave you alone now that I’ve already agreed.”

He’s sure confident for a boy Takumi could doubtless take in a fistfight. His retainers are ‘somewhere nearby,’ but regardless, Leo had, at some point, decided that this scenario would be perfectly safe - shut in a room the size of a matchbox with a Hoshidan royal who hates his guts. Never mind the fact that compared to Takumi he’s a twig beneath that armor.

When Leo had come to retrieve him for a sojourn to the library, it had been with apparent reluctance. Takumi had hid how glad he was to get to breathe fresh air again with a huff.

_“No chicken blood today?” he’d said wryly when Leo started towards the library._

_“Ugh, no. That was disgusting and I never want to do it again. If anyone asks, we’re on our way to a torture chamber.”_

Of course Takumi had already considered his options for running before the door was even closed, but apparently so had Corrin and Leo, because the library is near the heart of the castle - if Takumi’s gut sense of direction is to be believed - and he’d be fooling himself to assume that slipping away from a single royal sibling, or even escaping Krakenburg itself, would be as good as making it out of Nohr in one piece. It makes for a nice daydream, though; Leo is a mage who rides horseback into battle, so it’s hilarious to imagine him trying to keep up with Takumi on foot.

 

“So what if she gets angry,” Takumi grumbles, sliding down a few inches in his seat. “Not like Nohrians care about anything besides themselves.” He knows it’s childish and uncharitable because he already understands perfectly well that despite her true relations, Corrin is a family member in these royals’ minds and picking at that particular scab isn’t going to win him any points right now. In his defense, it’s stuffy in here and he’s running out of patience with Leo’s piss poor attitude.

“Don’t you ever get tired of tilting at windmills?” Leo says. “There are countless citizens of this country who wish to parade your head on a pike and yet you waste your breath antagonizing me because you don’t like the library?”

“I like the library fine, but this feels like sitting in a hole dug by a shrew!” Takumi shoots back.

“Apologies that our furnishings don't live up to your doubtless impeccable decorum.” He doesn’t sound very sorry at all. Takumi would savor the chance to slap him one day. Just once.

He’d read in a book when he was younger that the sun never shines in Nohr, and although that’s not technically correct, Takumi kind of feels like it’s true on _some_ level, because there’s no way normal people- or, at the very least, Hoshidans- would feel as comfortable as Leo apparently does, sitting in a claustrophobic hole in the wall like this. Takumi’s skin itches with how little room he has to move around here- it’s far too easy to stretch his arm out and run into granite. The only benefit is being out of sight from anyone else roaming about the library, but even then Leo is the only one he knows who steps foot inside it, so that’s a bit redundant.

“What’s with this place, anyways?” he adds in a mutter. He doesn’t expect an answer, but Leo provides one regardless.

“Ah, yes. It’s rather crude, isn’t it?” Leo touches his fingers to the wall beside him, where the jagged rock protrudes just above his head in a sort of lump. “It’s the best we were able to manage, though. We had so few to help with it, and we were all younger, then.”

Despite himself, Takumi does a double take. “Wait, are you saying you _made_ this?” Suddenly that makes a lot more sense, the way it’s just sort of carved into the side of the wall in an inconvenient corner of the library, clearly not with any kind of image in mind to match the rest of the castle’s dignified appearance. Every inch of Krakenburg is gray and chilly as the stone, but at least it’s warmer inside the makeshift den.

“Yes. Us and our retainers. We enlisted some help from a few other servants as well, but there weren’t many we were able to ask. It took an agonizingly long time to finish, but it’s become indispensable over the years.” Leo absentmindedly taps his fingers on his arm with a faraway look in his eyes as he speaks to the wall. Takumi can’t figure out if he looks more nostalgic or troubled. It’s as if his tone and body language suggest a graver topic than childhood mischief.

“It’s not too cozy in here. Seems like a lot of trouble to go through just for an extra hiding spot in a library.”

“It’s cute that you think we did this for pleasure rather than out of necessity.” Necessity for what, he doesn’t specify.

“Why didn’t you just get more help, then? I’m sure you can ask whoever you want for anything around here.”

“Because our father is the king.”

Leo is looking at him strangely, but that’s not a real contradiction of anything. Conversing with Leo about his family leaves Takumi with the distinct impression that he’s landed hard at the top of a staircase after thinking there was one more step than there was. “What?”

“We weren’t able to then for the same reason we’re here right now.”

“Because Corrin asked-?” Takumi cuts himself off and his teeth click with the close of his mouth when he realizes. Not Corrin. Obviously.

Takumi almost stands to pace but realizes he can barely stand in the tiny room, so settles for folding his arms tightly. Ryoma had always told him he ought to learn to control his body, not take out his excess energy so physically in indoor settings, but whenever Takumi has forced himself to still when he feels this agitated he'd just ended up feeling even antsier. That’s true for this moment as much as it had been at Shirasagi. There’s no need for such a dramatic reaction to Leo’s words, it’s only- it’s disconcerting, he supposes, to know that the Nohrian siblings had, for whatever reason, needed a hiding place from their father so badly that they had painstakingly carved into a stone wall to create one.

It’s within the realm of possibility that it was merely childish whimsy to desire something like that, a place to hide away from all the adults who might make them do lessons or eat their vegetables, but the look on Leo’s face tells him that isn’t the case. Takumi figures they’re already here, so he may as well dig deeper. It’s not like more information will _hurt_ him in the long run. The worst that could happen is he gets nothing useful in return.

“You had to hide from the king?”

“Well, if you were to be pedantic about it, it was more the other children and their mothers than Father himself, in the beginning.”

King Garon’s veritable array of mistresses in the past had been well known throughout Nohr _and_ Hoshido, so this is nothing new. Hoshidans had always scorned the practice, because it seemed immoral to them to take a wife and then discard her. An environment like that couldn’t have been much fun to live in, what with the complex adult affairs causing political tension across their countries at the time. “So you didn’t like them?”

Leo arches an eyebrow, as if in amusement. “No, I don’t suppose I liked the idea of being murdered, even as a child. Did you?”

Murdered? Takumi had been expecting- well, he isn’t sure, precisely. Maybe that Leo had been bullied by the other kids for being too small and weak and interested in books. Something unpleasant but _reasonable_ for a child to experience. He tries to imagine fearing for his life in the halls of Castle Shirasagi, but… it simply doesn’t mesh. Corrin’s disappearance had weighed heavily on his family, Takumi included, but day to day life in the castle had been close to idyllic besides that in comparison to being _murdered_.

“Don’t look at me like that, Prince Takumi. Pity doesn’t suit you.” Leo stands and snaps his book shut to tuck it under his arm. “It doesn’t matter, now. My mother is dead, as are my siblings’. What does it matter to you? You hate Nohrians.”

“That’s…” Takumi stands with him while searching for the right words to express his sympathy to the situation that don’t actually reveal any _sympathy_ for Leo or his family as Nohrians. “I don’t think any child deserves that kind of thing, though. Worrying about death.”

“I have some unfortunate news for you about orphanages.”

Takumi resists the urge to hit him. “Fine, then, maybe _you_ deserved it, Prince Leo.” He’s just irritated at Leo’s blasé attitude while Takumi is trying to be, well, _understanding_ for once, but Leo jerks away as if struck, and Takumi has to quickly reassess his impulsive words.

“Perhaps,” Leo says, though he’s standing to the door now, and Takumi can’t tell what his face looks like. His voice is about the same, but that doesn’t mean much except he’s skilled at keeping it under control. He strikes Takumi as the kind of person who would practice.

It’s impossible _not_ to feel a twinge of guilt at that. It doesn’t matter where they’re born, there are no children anywhere who deserve to live in such a way. It’s only when they grow up to become Nohrian soldiers and rulers that Takumi hates them- but in childhood? Assassinations and conspiracies have no place among innocence and yet find their way there anyways.

“I didn’t mean that,” Takumi tries in a lower voice, following behind. Now that they’re more out in the open they have to at least try to play at prisoner-and-escort once more.

Something about this exchange feels strangely familiar - though he's not sure if it's because Leo is similar to Elise, or because Takumi just doesn't know how to speak to them in equal measure.

“I suppose you wouldn’t,” Leo says. He starts towards a shelf of books with all the stiff grace of a person who had never been allowed to slouch his shoulders as a child, and Takumi makes a point of positioning himself close to Leo in the aisle, where he can’t be seen clearly from elsewhere in the room. Just in case. One never knows with some of these Nohrians; that retainer of Leo’s is particularly suspicious. Takumi has to wonder how he became so talented at sneaking around.

“What’s that supposed to mean? You barely know me.”

“You aren’t difficult to read,” Leo answers. Takumi is insulted on principle, never mind the specifics of what Leo is implying, and he’s about to retort when Leo adds, “You’re impulsive when you get emotional and rarely think before you speak.” Takumi closes his mouth. Leo glances back and has the gall to smirk at him. “Hit a nerve?”

“You wish,” Takumi mutters. Leo sounds like Ryoma when Takumi gets frustrated at his losses during practice duels.

“You aren’t particularly good at bluffing, either. I’d suggest favoring a different strategy. You must have others.”

Takumi is off-balance from the topic of Leo’s childhood but still, he’s not planning on weeping over some Nohrian royals anytime soon, despite how upsetting the information is. He diverts. “You say that as if we’re playing shogi together or something.”

“That’s the game similar to chess, isn’t it?”

‘Chess’ isn’t a word that’s familiar to Takumi, but he’s heard the comparison made by others in passing once or twice. “I think so.”

“I’ve heard of it but never gotten the opportunity to try my hand.”

They look at each other then, and there’s the strangest moment of clarity; their conversation had felt normal, if only for an instance. It’s like a glimpse into another time, another life, where they would’ve bickered just the same but it wouldn’t hurt like this does, wouldn’t feel so much like walking on a bed of nails. Then the moment passes, and Takumi’s in the present once more, in the huge, musty library of Krakenburg where he’s still a prisoner, conversing with Prince Leo.

“ _Corrin,”_ Takumi shapes his mouth around the name with all the disdain he can effect, “would probably suggest that you come to Hoshido after the war is over to learn. As if that would ever happen.”

“I’m sure,” Leo agrees, in a tone that suggests he would prefer to watch grass die. “And I could agree, if your very presence didn’t promise to ruin the atmosphere such a trip might provide.”

“Good,” he snaps. Then, “Wait, you would actually go to Hoshido?”

Cramming the book he’d been reading into a space on the shelf barely large enough to be suitable, Leo huffs before turning briskly away and starting towards the door when it doesn’t quite fit. Takumi guesses he’s embarrassed he’d had a witness for his complete misjudgment of the size of books.

He’s right to be embarrassed. It was funny to watch.

Leo clears his throat like he can hear Takumi’s thoughts and would like him to stop thinking them, although he’s still not bothering to look back, walking with his nose turned up. Takumi takes the opportunity to grab the book back off the shelf and hide it under his shirt for later. Nothing like a bit of light reading to make the time go by faster.

“Who wouldn’t?” Leo finally says, after satisfactorily demonstrating his snobbishness. “I’ve been there for battles, and it’s quite scenic. Quaint. Though my complexion may not agree with-”

“No, I mean _you_ would travel to Hoshido?”

Leo’s answer had seemed purely speculative, but Takumi doesn’t care about his opinion of Hoshido as a _tourist._ He doesn’t need to ask anyone about that, because it goes without saying that Hoshido is infinitely more beautiful than Nohr in every way, with fruit and vegetables and grain that isn’t dead. Animals that aren’t dead, too. Nohr’s barren, desolate landscape doesn’t even compare, and nationality doesn’t change the fact that anyone with eyes can see that.

“Why do you care whether I would travel to Hoshido, exactly? I can’t imagine this is relevant to your existence in any way.” Leo doesn’t sound very invested as he leads the way back out into the hallway. The few hours he’d promised Corrin must be up by now, and Takumi has no doubt they’re on their way back to the dungeons. Leo is insufferable, but being constantly irked is still preferable to marinating in the paradise for rats that is the Nohrian dungeons, so Takumi is looking to squeeze everything out of Leo that he can before he has to go back there.

It isn’t relevant, but he does want to know. “I mean, would you run from the war if you could?”

Takumi is expecting it when Leo’s head snaps towards him and eyes narrow. It’s a heavy question. Not something that people with critical roles in leading wars tend to voice, and certainly not to their enemies.

“My family is in Nohr,” Leo says instead of providing a proper reply. It’s possible he thinks that counts as an answer, but it doesn’t, especially when he was perfectly willing to imagine a hypothetical world of peace where he could sunbathe in Hoshido not three minutes earlier.

“If your siblings could come too. Would you, Prince Leo?”

Leo’s knuckles turn white where he grips his arms, and Takumi considers that it isn't wise to strain this tenuous kind of alliance that's been dragged into existence by Corrin. Leo might have passed on torture before, but Takumi doesn’t trust him _quite_ that much yet, and decides to let the matter drop rather than push to find out exactly how distressed Leo would need to become before resorting to more traditional Nohrian tactics.

They continue down the hall without further exchange, and their footsteps _tap_ like a light rain in the oppressive silence. The faintest whisper behind them - Takumi would have missed it had he not spent his life hunting in the forest - informs him that at least one of Leo’s retainers is somewhere behind them, following at a respectable distance. It’s ludicrous to become self-conscious over his appearance at a time like this but it’s a grating realization that they and everyone else are seeing Takumi in such a raggedy state. Particularly his hair. He typically prides himself on it but now it’s oily and in disarray and generally unkempt and he can’t do anything about it.

Takumi had already given up on the conversation as a lost cause by the time they reach the entryway to the dungeon stairs. Leo stops there but makes no move to tell him to get lost just yet, so Takumi stays put.

Leo flexes and unflexes his hands where they’re folded tightly over his chest several times before he finally speaks, gaze fixed somewhere around Takumi’s abdomen. “…I’m loyal to Nohr.”

Had he spent all those minutes thinking about it and only come up with that? “Why? It’s terrible here,” Takumi says plainly. “The people are cruel and miserable and the king is a tyrant.”

If he didn’t know better, Takumi might think that Leo, whom he knows by now through their unfortunate excess of interaction as the intellectual wise-ass, struggles for words. Or at the very least, he struggles with _something,_ and every time he opens his mouth now it’s after a tense pause.

With a strain in his voice like it physically pains him to force it out, Leo says, “He’s my father.”

* * *

  
No one comes down to see Takumi again for a long while after that. He entertains himself by reading the book he’d snuck down in the pathetically dim torchlight. Gods, he thinks as he squints at the pages to make out the words, he’s going to make his eyes as bad as Leo’s like this. He’s never been stuck in darkness for this long in his entire life, and even as he gets accustomed to it, it becomes more unnerving as he finishes the book (it’s a dry read, about metaphysics and the theories related to it, though Takumi thinks he would harbor significantly more interest in the subject were he to peruse it under different circumstances) and then skims it again half-heartedly for good measure.

Takumi’s known since he was a kid that he’s a fast reader, but reading a philosophy book almost _twice_ in too-dim lighting feels like an eternity. The stretch of nothingness is interrupted only by nameless guards coming down every so often - he can’t say for certain, but perhaps in periods of twelve hours - to deposit lukewarm, simple foods and a tiny tin cup of water near the bars. It’s far too much time in between each occurrence to be healthy, and after counting the fourth meal, Takumi is both too weary to move and ready to strangle the next guard who tries to leave him old, stale bread.

Besides the academia - because after so long without the usual comforts to go with studies, like access to water or sunlight or a bed that doesn’t feel like laying on gravel, trying to endeavor questions about the concept of self does nothing more than hurt his head - Takumi tries to imagine what’s happening in Hoshido without him. There’s no doubt that his family is worried about him… but did the Nohrians even tell them he’s alive? Of course they would. He’s a valuable bargaining chip, despite whatever savage fantasies Garon imagines.

No, Takumi doesn’t think he’s going to die right away, but it doesn’t seem as though Corrin’s plan is working. Each time he’s forced to shoo a stray rat out of the cell his gut feeling grows stronger. That she didn’t mean it, that he’s only being forced to accept he’s an honest to the gods prisoner of war _days_ after being captured because of the pathetic condolences of a long-lost sibling who merely wanted to bring him a false sense of comfort before abandoning him entirely. Surely, if she or anyone else were taking significant actions to help him, he wouldn’t still be locked up.

The thought that he’s being impatient about this conclusion crosses his mind, but he finds that he can’t bring himself to care. For someone forced to sit and ruminate in their own thoughts endlessly, Takumi has no patience left in him. Humans weren’t meant to live in cages, and every passing hour just piles onto the identical ones through which he’s already suffered. With each one he sinks deeper into his conviction: that the flickering embers of hope which had held out until now were worthless all along, and Corrin was lying.

He’s rehashed Corrin’s words from the first day so much - thought and thought and thought about which could _possibly_ be believed and which were brazen untruths to coax Takumi into lowering his guard - that before long, his chest and head are both throbbing. Mercilessly, for hours on end, and Takumi - for all his effort - can’t get it to stop. Because his head hurts from overthinking and from dehydration, but his heart hurts because he’d once believed he had a second older sister and had been stupid enough to continue believing it even after being stabbed in the back once.

It’s hard to think straight in isolation this absolute. Without any outside influences or other people with whom to interact, they circle back on themselves and flip normal concepts into nonsense, float against his will to dark places, places from childhood (from when Corrin was ripped away from them and from the season like a living nightmare that had ensued) to which he never thought he would return. It’s more likely that Takumi is going to slowly starve down here than he is to be rescued by _her._

By the time the silhouette of the eldest sister of the Nohrian family appears in the blindingly bright doorway, Takumi isn’t expecting much outside of torture, plain and simple. Psychological, physical, who knows. He doesn’t care. At least it’s some kind of stimulation. Someone else hurting his body _has_ to be better than what his own mind is already doing to him, and even if it isn’t, at least he’ll be cognizant enough to realize it.

The way Camilla walks is quite deliberate. Distinctive. If they were living together, he would be able to tell it was her if he heard footsteps in the hallways, Takumi thinks, for some reason.

She stops near the cell and, unlike Elise, she doesn’t try to put herself on his level. There’s something about the way she stands before him, looking him over with a kind of coquettish finger to her lips, that makes Takumi want to cover himself with something more substantial than his current ratty clothes.

“Oh, my,” Camilla says, breaking the chilly stillness of the dungeon. Her tone is deliberately coy, and it contrasts sharply with the perpetually damp stone and rot present all around them. A mockery of a loving mother speaking to her misbehaving children. “You must be so hungry, darling. But don’t worry. Soon enough, Corrin won’t need to fret about you anymore.”

So they are killing him. The reality of it is brutal but inescapable, like bracing for impact after a fall. Takumi’s not yet reached the point of wishing for death over captivity, but the inevitability of it smothers the panic. He’s shaky but temperate when he stands and follows her, and lets the words roll over him like a slow wave when she says, “Xander asked me to fetch you. I’ll tell Corrin you said goodbye, dear, so we mustn’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

* * *

  
It doesn’t occur to Takumi until they reach the outer courtyard that these are odd circumstances for an execution. To die near vegetation in the open air is preferable to a public beheading or even a theatrical death before an audience of the castle’s occupants, but Takumi doesn’t understand, exactly, what they’re doing here, and so allows Camilla to continue herding him forward with a deceptively firm grip on his bicep.

Xander is waiting for them near the treeline, and walks to greet Camilla when she nears.

“Thank you,” he says lowly. It’s the first time Takumi has heard him say anything other than distant shouts of war, but that’s far from the most unusual thing in the situation.

Camilla smiles and leans in to kiss Xander’s cheek, sweet in a way that suggests she’s doting on him despite being the younger of the two. He returns it, quicker but accompanied with a touch to her shoulder. Despite the obvious familiarity of the affection, it doesn’t _feel_ very familial - not in the sense that their behavior is dubious in some way, but in that Takumi can’t imagine not greeting Hinoka with a hug after more than a day or two of separation. Camilla is by far the most physically intimate person he’s encountered in Nohr, but even she doesn’t embrace Xander, nor does she seem inclined to do so at any other time.

“Anytime, Xander,” she says. She, too, speaks softly, the way one would if there were someone around besides Takumi to hear her. “But, I must ask… Father will be upset when he learns of this. What will you tell him?”

“I will handle him, Camilla. I’m leaving Corrin and Leo in your care for the time being, because they’ll need it.”

Camilla’s smile has vanished now. She looks years older without it. “When don’t they?”

Takumi has no desire to listen to them discuss Corrin any further before being killed in cold blood. He walks backward deliberately, measuring his steps to make no sound amidst the littering of dead leaves and branches. The two are still murmuring to each other, and Takumi hears Corrin’s name mentioned again before he turns on a dime to sprint away, legs moving faster than he’d thought possible on such little sustenance. He doesn’t have time to think, doesn’t have time to be scared; he just runs. Makes as much headway on his pursuer as possible- go, faster, duck, faster, jump the tree stump, duck the tangled ivy. No time to spare a thought for how Xander shouts at Camilla to _Speak nothing of this!_ before Takumi can hear the sound of him beginning to run after. Just another burst of speed to take him as far away from there as he can get.

He can’t have made it more than fifty feet when the footfalls behind him catch up. Then his foot catches in a root, twists, and he’s hitting the ground hard. Bark and stones cut harsh into his palms where they slam against the dirt to break his fall. The breath is knocked out of him, and his whole being falters for an instance as the shock of the sudden impact ripples through him.

“It is my duty,” says a voice low and grave as midnight, “as high prince of Nohr, to kill you, here and now.”

Takumi, with great care, pushes himself up from the ground to find a sword terrifyingly close to his face.

Xander stands above him and no matter how many times Takumi’s seen him like this, Xander cuts an intimidating figure wherever he is, whether on the battlefield or here - on foot and brandishing his weapon at Takumi as if Xander is readying himself to execute him on the spot, in a strong stance that very may well be the last thing Takumi ever sees.

Tremors wrack his body - he’s weak with hunger despite the morsels that had passed for meals over the last couple days, shaky from the burst of adrenaline and weak from so many hours of captivity, and there’s a _sword_ in his _face_ \- and he has to focus very, very hard to will himself to remain kneeling where he is, rather than stumbling to his feet and running like hell again, because that’s one way to skip negotiating altogether and guarantee a clear shot to the back.

The world narrows to the prince standing before him and his sword. It has the faintest purple glow around it, like the enigmatic spirit that possesses the Fujin Yumi has a darker twin in the sword Xander wields. Truly the weapon of the high prince of Nohr: the first and only true son of Garon. It’s sharp -  which doesn’t make it hard to imagine it swinging forward to slice Takumi’s head cleanly off his body. He suppresses a shudder at the phantom sensation of a blade in his neck. The image playing over his vision feels more real than the dirt under his knees. He starts feeling lightheaded.

“However.”

It takes a moment for Takumi to fully register that Xander has spoken, and has not, in fact, already killed him.

“…However?” Takumi asks cautiously. It feels brave to even voice the question, despite the fact that he had never before failed to spit insults when faced with death. There’s something gritty and raw and unfulfilling about being decapitated in a forest that stains his typical bravado an unsettling gray. Death, now, feels less like a concept carried by the tides of war and woven into the fabric of legends and battle strategy than it does being butchered like an animal beside a silver birch tree. He can see his reflection dully in the flat of the sword.

Xander lowers the blade, and Takumi’s whole being eases an inch but still he doesn’t dare to move. He can taste bile at the back of his throat like acid.

“I’ve spent enough nights listening to my sister weep for you,” Xander says, and something about it sounds as exhausted and wrung dry as Takumi feels. “I won’t be the cause of another.”

“You’re not going to kill me?” Takumi says in disbelief. It’s like seeing a dog refuse meat; there’s something fundamentally wrong about a Nohrian, especially _this_ Nohrian, declining the opportunity to murder a defenseless Hoshidan prince.

Xander sheaths his sword. His eyes are hard as flint, though his words are anything but. “I am not my father.”

“If you weren’t going to kill me, why are we here?” Is it a good tactic to question this when _anywhere but inside Krakenburg_ is unquestionably the best place Takumi can possibly be right now? No. Is he thinking strategically with scraped palms and knees bleeding onto the forest floor before the high prince of Nohr after several days of imprisonment? Similarly no.

Takumi is already caught off guard, and he already doesn’t know what to expect, but out of all the possibilities, Takumi wouldn’t have guessed at Xander kneeling down and holding out a hand to help him to his feet.

“My younger siblings,” he replies, “are not as sneaky as they think themselves to be. Corrin’s and Leo’s plan to send you back is far too risky for them, so I am stepping in to do it myself.”

His grip is strong enough that Takumi barely stumbles standing up, and he’s reminded of Ryoma and how his hands were always larger, more solid than Takumi’s.

Takumi has never quite learned to shut his mouth, though. “You’ve done terrible things. You’ve helped terrorize my kingdom and my people for years. Thousands have died by your blade and by your command.”

“What you say is true.” The reply is unhesitating. Then Xander reaches back over his shoulder to grab- Takumi’s breath catches.

“Can you defend yourself?” Takumi nods numbly, eyes fixated on the Fujin Yumi. Xander hands it to him, as calmly as if he has nothing to worry about from Takumi even with a weapon in his hands. Maybe he doesn’t.

When Takumi takes it, the Yumi thrums in his hand, wood flooding with a current of energy. He’s never thought of his bow as a living thing, but the soothing warmth it emits is more welcoming than anything else in the world.

“Good. Go through the Woods of the Forlorn. It’s dangerous, but troops will be unable to follow you there.”

“Why are you doing this?”

Takumi doesn’t know what to make of this. He feels _years_ more human with the Fujin Yumi in hand again, but he had been bracing himself for death just a few minutes before. The high prince of Nohr shouldn’t be offering him an escape route. It makes no sense.

Xander draws himself taller (Takumi hadn’t realized it was possible for him to _get_ any taller) and keeps his chin held high and proud. “Since this war began,” he says, “I’ve seen less and less where my father ends and I begin, and I've begun to question if I was born to be an extension of him. I have nothing to prove to you, but I owe it to Corrin, and my family. For them to know that I am not him.”

Now _that’s_ unexpected, but also- not surprising in the least. No one in their right mind would want to resemble King Garon, and yet it’s commonly assumed that his loyal son must, as he follows his father’s commands so faithfully. Takumi’s experiences from seeing the siblings in Krakenburg compared to their reputations are dissonant. They’re exactly as the rumors say, yet there’s something fundamentally different about them. If Yukimura were here, he might phrase it delicately, as ‘family issues.’ Takumi himself isn’t entirely sure what to think, except that it will be infinitely more difficult to face them on the battlefield, now.

The heir to the throne of Nohr steps back and away from Takumi, and says to him in a voice like snowfall, “Run home, little prince. There is nothing for you here.”

Takumi is stubborn, argumentative, bitter, competitive - any number of things, many of which his older siblings would be happy to list if asked - but he isn’t stupid. He starts backing away, wary that Xander is going to change his mind and kill him after all, but Xander stands strong. That does it. Takumi turns and breaks into a sprint.

Many, many times in the hours following, Takumi thinks he hears the sound of someone in pursuit, but each time it turns out to be an animal or the wind. No Nohrian soldiers chase him down. Nothing happens at all, and Takumi reaches a tiny village within a few hours of running as fast as he can short of collapsing.

It’s straightforward from there to find his way back to Shirasagi, as he gets nearer to Hoshidan lands. Besides the phantom footsteps Takumi keeps jumping at, there’s only one other thing in his wild and his overactive nerves that keeps coming back to him.

Going home to Hoshido on foot is a arduous objective, but he’ll be safe once he gets there. He’s free to run away and leave this nightmare behind him, but the prince who watched him go him will walk back into that castle, and he never gets to leave, because he has no other home to which he can return. When he rules someday it'll be over a bloodstained legacy, in an era of utter distrust in the crown. The woman - no, the girl, she couldn't be much older than Hinoka - who had appeared to him like the specter of an executioner in the echoing walls of stone, too, will still be living there long after Takumi has made it home and reunited with his own siblings. Krakenburg isn't going to change, and even while Takumi sits down to share a meal with his family again upon his return, Corrin is still going to be within its borders.

If and when they win the war and take Krakenburg, Takumi thinks somewhat musingly, then the royal siblings would undoubtedly become their prisoners, as Takumi had been theirs - and they will be kept  _anywhere_ but in that castle with Garon. No matter what. Because in the end, taking them away from that place and its ruler forever is the greatest kindness he can think of to offer in return for sparing his life.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not really an active part of the fe fandom, i just replayed fates recently and it reminded me how frustrated i will always be at the treatment of the familial abuse subplot in conquest. you see scenes that strongly imply it but they're never addressed as such, and garon's cruelty towards his own family and other innocents is easily disregarded as a side effect of being possessed- despite the fact that his children would've endured years of this without ever knowing there was an external force at play. for their entire lives before the events of fates, it was their actual father they lived in fear of, despite the fe character designers' incapability of creating an antagonist who doesn't blatantly look like a demon risen from the pits of hell. it makes it a bit easier for the player to forget that the kids are supposed to believe it's still their father, because we can all easily see he's evil like his skin is gray for christs sake. thats why, due to the framing of the story, it's not something that naturally crosses most people's minds, because they all know right away garon is the villain, so complying with his orders feels more like willful ignorance on the siblings' parts than it does real victimization.
> 
> and i think that sucks. amen.


End file.
